Kaiguro threw an unseen punch. From his clasped hands, three spiraling cyclones of compressed air burst forth. Each vortex bent mid flight, curving like serpents set on collision paths, twisting and weaving through the air in an unpredictable pattern. You could get hit in the knee, chest, and head all at once if you weren’t careful... or even if you were.

  Hazo's eyes sharpened. In a flash, he stepped to the right, his heel grinding into the dirt. The three cyclones screamed past him, their wake disturbing the dust and loose grass. The ground where he’d just been erupted, the impact leaving deep gouges and fractured stone. He turned back with a cocky grin, mocking, “Those seem much slower now!”

  Kaiguro’s expression remained calm. He maintained his prayer stance, arms folded. Hazo’s body twitched. He dashed in low and fast, priming his fingers with minute, twitching motions. Each step closed the distance at a frightening pace. If Hazo gets close, he’ll paralyze Kaiguro with a touch. Kaiguro struck again, his arm snapping forward like a whip. Another set of air cyclones erupted, bursting outward in a wide cone. Hazo dipped under the first trio, but then, three more slammed into him. one into his thigh, the second smashing into his right pectoral, and the third slamming into his foot.

  His shoe was ripped open. His shirt shredded along his chest, revealing torn skin beneath. His pants split at the thigh, and fresh blood began to trickle. The force of the blast stole all momentum from his sprint, and he staggered back several steps.

  Hazo steadied himself, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He snickered through the pain, “So you’ve improved.”

  Without warning, he surged forward again, this time even faster. His movements remained sharp.

  Kaiguro didn’t hesitate. A single, larger cyclone blasted from his fist. A massive, howling spiral of air condensed into a focused column. It hit Hazo square in the chest with as much force as one of Caleb's normal punches.

  He flipped backward violently, his body twisting mid air. His fingers dragged against the dirt as he crashed and skidded, carving a trench with his palm. When he came to a halt, a deep bruise had already begun forming on his chest, the skin darkening around a swollen welt.

  Breathing heavier now, Hazo narrowed his eyes. He began to zigzag as he ran, bobbing side to side, looking for a weakness in Kaiguro’s targeting. But Kaiguro’s aim was unnervingly precise.

  Another salvo of air cyclones tore through the space between them—this time, all three crashed into Hazo’s face.

  Sharp wind pressure carved into his skin, slicing both of his cheeks. Blood sprayed lightly into the air. Hazo gritted his teeth and touched his cheek, smearing the blood between his fingers testing its warmth.

  From the sidelines, Leo called out, “Not in a million years. Kaiguro’s still training his Burst Style, decreasing the flaws day by day.”

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  I could see it, too. Hazo’s breathing was slightly labored now. Sweat dripped from his forehead, trailing down his chin. His repeated sprints and bursts of speed hadn’t worn him down completely, but the signs of fatigue were starting to show.

  Kaiguro slowly released his prayer stance. His arms relaxed at his sides. Hazo mirrored his movement, except, he spread his arms wider.

  A moment passed.

  Then Kaiguro lunged, launching a heavy haymaker. But nothing followed. No cyclone. No burst. Just the swing.

  Hazo’s eyes widened. What?

  An invisible force struck Hazo in the gut. His body convulsed mid stance, shoulders snapping forward and back. The shock twisted his torso, and his legs nearly buckled from the sudden blow. His eyes winced in pain, but there was a spark behind them.

  Hazo’s clothes were now in tatters. His shirt was ripped across the chest, the sleeves hanging loose. Cuts peppered his arms, his legs, his ribcage. Any onlooker might think he'd be trembling in fear. But instead, Hazo brought two fingers to his mouth, barely able to stifle a grin forming underneath.

  His voice cracked with excitement, “It’s like that, huh?”

  Kaiguro stepped forward again, launching another punch, this time from his left hand. Hazo’s instincts flared. He swung his hand not like my spear, but like a knife.

  The air behind him detonated.

  On both sides—right and left—two symmetrical explosions of wind erupted, as if a sphere had been sliced clean through. It sent grass into the air, a reminder of just how much raw force Kaiguro had.

  Hazo shouted mid dodge, “You’re just making the cyclone invisible! If you get the timing right, you can divert it!”

  Kaiguro calmly returned to his prayer stance, fingers pressed tightly together. But now, there was no pause. Cyclone after cyclone shot from his fists. Dozens of them, invisible and relentless. Every time the invisible air came close, Hazo struck it. His arms became blurs, whipping through the air, cutting the wind before it could shred him. His fingers danced like a conductor’s, disrupting the invisible cyclones with pinpoint precision.

  He couldn’t stop them all. Gashes still appeared. Skin was sliced. Blood was drawn. But Hazo was advancing.

  Ten feet. That’s all that remained.

  Kaiguro’s stance widened. He extended both arms and pushed forward—like parting the seas. A wall of dense, pressurized air roared outward, catching Yaro mid-sprint. It pushed him back several yards, dirt spraying out from under his shoes.

  It wasn’t enough. Hazo planted his right heel and leapt—an arcing burst of motion that brought him just into range.

  Next to me, Leo smiled. His voice was certain. “Show them, Ruler.”

  Hazo was one second away from striking. One second from paralyzing Kaiguro.

  Kaiguro wasn’t frozen. He outstretched his hand in one fluid motion and grabbed Hazo by the hair, halting him. The force of the grip yanked Hazo’s head back slightly.

  Hazo's hands flailed, grabbing Kaiguro’s wrist as he struggled against the hold.

  A brutal punch slammed into Hazo’s face. His head jerked to the side.

  He blinked. Kaiguro chose to fight in close range? Hazo was shocked. Kaiguro, who always relied on range, was meeting him in close combat? With someone who could paralyze him in one blow?

  Kaiguro flexed his fingers with a smirk, “I’m glad you were able to get close. I can make this personal.”

  Hazo’s grin split open. A manic, wild glint sparked in his eyes as he reached up and jabbed Kaiguro’s fingers with a precise, lightning quick motion. A shock ran through Kaiguro’s hand, and his grip slackened. Hazo dropped to the ground.

  Hazo laughed maniacally, stepping forward with purpose even closer. “You’re going to fight me in my area of expertise?”

  He leaned in, voice low. He struck toward Kaiguro’s torso, whispering.

  “That’s not even funny.”